


I'll Never Kill Again (What Happened After)

by ddotmac



Series: What Happened [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, almost all the other characters appear sporadically and they'll come in later but SHHHHH OKAY, first person but trust me i'm going somewhere with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2019-10-23 17:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddotmac/pseuds/ddotmac
Summary: After all these years, it's just Locus.





	1. The Moment of Truth (And the Next Moment, and the Next Moment)

"And just where do you think you're going?"

I froze. It couldn't be. I turned to look over my shoulder at Felix leaning smugly against the wall, armor completely intact and bloodless, and I could feel the smarmy look on his face in spite of the helmet. He put his foot on the ground and began walking towards me. "I watched you die," I said somewhere between a question and a statement.

He patted my face, and for some reason, I didn't have the strength to pull away. I gripped the hilt of the Key so hard that my hand began to shake and I think I might have almost started crying. "Oh, Locus," he sighed. "You and I both know that it'll take a lot more than that to kill me." I activated the sword and lunged forward, and he evaporated into a cloud of dust on an echoing laugh.

_Right. Okay. So I was just hallucinating. That's.. fine. I'll be fine._

But he was right.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So, uh, hi there. Maybe some introductions are in order. My name is Sam Ortez, and you've probably already gathered that this book is about me. I've never actually come out from behind the curtain, as it were, but now that we're in the present, it might be appropriate. I enjoy reading, animals, and playing music, and I spent around half of my life (and about a third of this biography) as a gun for hire, but you know all that. You know because I told you.

What you don't know is that I enjoy Broadway musicals, and I like to cook, and I can't dance, and my parents were very religious, or that Siris was my first, or that I was Felix's first. Because I didn't tell you those things.

This has been a really difficult thing to write, with a lot of hard memories coming back from decades ago when I made some of the worst mistakes of my life. So I feel like this should be the part where we take a little siesta from all the gritty, gun-slinging reality of my life and get down to some happier stuff.

I won't lie to you - some more bad things happen. Do not get me wrong. But this is definitely the part where it ramps steadily uphill.

I'm going to write the rest of it in first person because it's easier to describe that way. Just trust me. You'll understand.

After Felix died (and especially after that hallucination) I wanted to go find his body and make sure he was dead, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't seem to leave Chorus either, for whatever reason. I found an abandoned ship (Lord knows there were plenty of those on Chorus, no thanks to me), ripped out its tracking and AI, and set up base there. I did swear off killing, but I ended up being too paranoid to get rid of all my firearms. I kept as few as possible and always had the Key on my person, not that it would have been of use to anyone else.

I started going on the Quest (and you're probably curious - I got this question from almost all of the Reds and Blues - _no,_ I did _not_ get sexed up by an alien.) and I got A'rynasea and I started traveling around helping people, for everything it was worth. I mostly helped people move furniture and solve smaller problems, and although I do recall once rescuing someone from a burning building, it was mostly little things. I felt like it was the least I could do. None of them had any idea who I was.

I stopped killing and I stopped drinking and I tried my damnedest to move on. But forgiveness is hard, especially towards oneself. And sometimes the past literally comes back to haunt you.

So, yeah. This was a little meta (I promise it won't happen again) but I wanted to explain myself a bit before we got back into the nitty gritty. Enjoy.

\- S. O.


	2. And the Other Will Be Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus gets discovered. He provides some closure for a few people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for graphic depictions of violence (edit: added some words that got left out)

I was picking my way along a small rocky path when I heard the sound of a gun cocking and my heart jumped into my throat. (I'll never forget how this all came to be.) "Put your hands where I can see them," demanded a rough, but high-pitched masculine voice I didn't recognize. I obliged. The sound had come from behind me, so I assumed that the owner of the voice, and the gun, was too.

"Identify yourself." He was surprisingly confident for someone who seemed to know who he was speaking to. On instinct, I regurgitated one of the fake names that I'd come up while on the Quest. The soldier's foot slid and little on the shifting dirt. "Try again." I sucked in a deep breath and replied honestly.

"Okay, without moving your hands, I want you to turn around clockwise and get down on your knees."

I did as I was told, looking up at the young soldier in question. He was wearing rebel armor, but that didn't mean much these days. "Do you have any weapons?" he barked, his grip on the gun never faltering, his aim never wavering. If he had fired, his bullet would have gone through the upper part of my right pectoral. I thought about how that seemed little counterintuitive. I could've easily escaped from that if I wanted to (unless, of course, he punctured a lung, but with the armor over my chest, that would be nearly impossible), but I didn't believe the solider would shoot and I was willing to stand down.

"Will I get it back?"

"If you cooperate."

I knew that probably wasn't true, but I felt like I had to do it anyways. "I have weapon on my person, my sword," I told him. "It is attached to my left hip, and I'm going to move my right hand down to grab and set it on the ground in front of me." I did everything exactly as I described, and I wasn't lying. I had been carrying as few firearms as possible since Felix's death. It wasn't easy getting over my paranoia enough to stash them all somewhere and travel without at least one, but I was learning to manage.

"Are you prepared to come quietly?"

I nodded once and the solder advanced upon me, grabbing my wrists (I did not protest) and putting on them the thick blocky shackles that were pretty typical for the technology on Chorus. As he pulled me to my feet, I couldn't stop my heart from racing, my hackles raising on instinct. I swallowed hard and gulped down several breaths as the realization hit me sort of suddenly. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

The soldier led me back to a van, ushering me through the large double doors into a spacious back space, separated from the front seats by a panel of glass. I climbed in and sat down, crossing my legs. "Oh, uh," the soldier pulled something out of his pocket. "I was supposed to give this to you. They didn't think you would come so willingly." It glinted in the midday light. I started when I realized it was syringe. Sometimes, I was very grateful for having my helmet.

"Let me assure, that's not necessary," I said as calmly as possible. "I'm not going to put up a fight."

He moved closer to me somewhat hesitantly, as if afraid that I would pounce in an instant, and gripped my forearm, turning it so that the thin body suit on the fleshy part of my elbow was exposed. "Sorry, but I have to. My orders came straight from Miss Kimball."

My heart jumped into my throat and my vision went black.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I awoke, I was pulled taut by my arms, kneeling on the ground. My head felt fuzzy and my hair was matted with sweat, but I blearily opened my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Guys, check it out. It's awake."

I turned my head and saw before me another rebel soldier (not the one from before, this one was taller and thinner) standing a good distance away, leaning on his gun casually. An assorted bunch of feds and rebels were standing a bit further away, as though afraid to get near me. A twinge of hurt struck through me in that moment. I knew it, but it had never occurred to me exactly how much these people considered me a monster.

I made eye contact with one of them and they visibly buckled, taking a few steps backwards. I realized then that this my karma. One of them - the closest one - was approaching with something in his hand extended towards me. "I'm going to enjoy this," he said, uncurling what I realized was a whip.

The words _I've been waiting a long time to do this_ cracked through my skull as clearly as the day I'd heard them spoken and I could only brace myself. "Nothing to say?" he said, waving it, and my eyes locked onto it. "You'd think after all these fuckin' years, you'd have something to say." He turned around and called to those behind him. "Get over here, it don't bite!"

"Don't poke the bear, man," one of them called out timidly.

He laughed mirthlessly, swinging the whip in a circle. I kept my eyes on it the whole time. "What's he gonna do? We have him all tied up."

"K-Kimball told us not to hurt him--"

"To hell with what Kimball said! I deserve this," he snarled, causing them all to recoil. "Nothing bad is gonna happen. Watch." He reeled his arm back and the whip made a simmering line of pain across my back. I clamped down on the scream that wanted to come out, turning my head down and clenching my hands to work through the pain. I breathed hard through my nose, feeling the blood seeping down my back and on my shirt. "See? Nothing happened."

One of them straightened up, less afraid now. "Do it again."

I jolted, looking up from the floor. "That's weird," said the one with the whip. "I thought monsters weren't afraid of anything." He whacked off another one, closer to my shoulder blades, and the sound of it cracking covered up my whimper. A few people in the group of soldiers laughed, stunned, the laugh of children who couldn't believe they were getting away with what they were doing. I kept my head lowered, refusing to look at any of them. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes that I swallowed down.

"Do a bunch of 'em," yelled another. "I want to see this fucker bleed." He chuckled and hit off several in a row without stopping, causing hot blood to ooze down my back and tears to roll down my cheeks before I could stop them. I remained as still as I could and shook with the pain.

"You guys really ought to try this," he called out. "It's fun." They all laughed again and they sounded closer than before. One after another, the pain came, tearing my skin from my flesh. The soldiers all whooped and hollered, egging him on.

"What the _hell_ is going on in here?!"

We all looked up, straight into the eyes of one very harried Vanessa Kimball, looking extremely pissed. All of the soldiers stood at attention. The one closest to me saluted with the hand that wasn't holding his whip, and it dangled to the floor, smearing blood around. There was no way to hide what had been happening here. "G-General! We, we were just--"

"What part of 'don't hurt him' do you not understand?!" she barked. She marched towards them and stopped behind me to see the damage. I wanted to arch away, not let her see me in weakness, but there was nowhere to go. "God dammit, McAllister, this isn't about your petty revenge or some other glorious cause!" Surprisingly, she untied my wrists and I lowered myself to the floor, breathing through the pain as she continued to berate them. _So, Kimball didn't bring me here to torture me. Which I guess is good. But it could mean something worse. Is it worth it to find out?_ I squared my jaw. _I imagine it is not._

Silently apologizing, I launched myself forward from the ground and sprinted as fast as I could. All I heard was a hotly shouted, "Hey--!" before I propelled myself through the door Kimball came through and looked around, but I never stopped running. I had no idea which way was out. I was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps chasing me. The blood stained my shirt and the pain coursed all through my body. But I just kept running. Apparently, someone was closer than I thought, because I arched my back and yelled as a jolt of electricity punched through my chest and I blacked out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I woke up, I was in a different shirt, feeling sticky and in pulsating pain, but very much alive and away from the soldiers. I flexed my hands and realized I was tied to a chair. Kimball was standing some feet away, gazing into the middle distance and biting her fingernail. "General?" I called out gently, and it bit that I didn't mean Doyle when I said that. I just had no idea how else to address her. She turned to face me, surprised, and walked towards me, sitting down in a chair across from me. "You know, blacking out this much probably isn't great for my health," I said, somewhat jokingly - it seemed like what Felix would do if he were in my shoes - and she smiled a tight-lipped smile.

"The taser left a wound, but it shouldn't scar," she said, businesslike. "The whips, on the other hand, probably will. I saw to it that you got cleaned up and bandaged, but it isn't practical to stitch them up, and even if it was, they'd probably stay there for a while." She was spending just a little too much time staring at my face, almost guilty. "I'm so sorry about my men. I swear to God, I told them not to harm you. I claim full responsibility for the accident."

 _Accident._ I set my jaw. "I think I deserved it," I didn't say. "I know it wasn't your fault," I also didn't say. I just nodded once.

She clasped her hands together and said, "I really just wanted to ask you some questions."

"Of course. I'd be happy to oblige," I said, and it felt weird to be having a conversation where one of us was tied to a chair. "I was perfectly willing to cooperate when the terms were laid out originally, but..."

Kimball smiled, lips pursed. "That's understandable, Locus." I couldn't help but wince slightly at the use of my codename. I hadn't been referred to as anything other than fake names since Felix died. It surprised me how much I already hated it. "So, the Reds and Blues told me you ran off. I'm assuming you took the Key?"

"I did," I replied. "And I'm assuming you know I'm the only one who can use it. I... don't know if you intend to let me go--"

"Oh, I do," she interrupted. I sighed and relaxed. I had barely even realized how tightly I'd been holding myself. "I just want to know the truth first." I nodded. "So why did you want to stay on Chorus?"

I thought about this. "I've done a lot of wrong here. I only thought it fair that I try to help others. I've been a few other places, but.. I find myself having trouble leaving this planet. I've got a lot of strings around here."

"So Felix.." She fumbled with the words slightly. "He's really dead?"

I swallowed and managed, "Yes, he's dead. If he weren't, I.. couldn't use the sword."

Kimball looked kind of embarrassed. "Right, I.. right. So...why were you working with him if you hated each other?"

"Well, here's the thing," I said carefully. "We didn't.. um. Really hate each other?" Her eyebrows jumped, but her face didn't change otherwise. "We've been friends since the war. It was.. a lot safer to tell the two of you that we'd hated each other in the past. It was a motive for supporting you and a reason that you would never associate the two of us." As I spoke, Kimball's eyes grew wider with surprise and what must have been rage, her knuckles white. I swallowed.

After a long moment, she said, "That's understandable." and nothing more. Then she asked, "So if you were friends, why did you let him die?"

I grimaced slightly. "That's.. sort of a fresh wound." Then when I saw her face, I added, "But I guess it's something you deserve to know. He, um.. was basically using me to protect himself. He was really afraid that he couldn't survive without me, that I would... kill him if I knew I didn't actually need him." _And he was right,_ I didn't say. "So he spent a long time convincing me that I did so that we would never have to be apart."

She looked completely floored. "God, I.. I'm sorry."

I laughed. "Why are you apologizing to me?"

Kimball smiled again, but this one felt genuine. She looked at my face again and her expression withered somewhat. She pointed at her own face, tapping near the bridge of her nose, and said quietly, "What's with the..?"

I was confused for a second before realizing what she was talking about and I completely balked. "That's--" I stammered and felt fear creeping back up my throat, a second reminder of that day so closely following the last. "It's a long story. And a very old one."

She looked at the floor as though choosing her words carefully. "Was that.. after you started wearing the helmet?"

"Yes."

"Did you.. want it to happen?"

"No."

She got up and sat back down, straightening her clothes. I guess I should have been flattered that she wasn't wearing armor around me. "I certainly.. I didn't mean to open a fresh wound with you. So to speak. I understand that war can be..." She seemed unsure of what words to use, and I just nodded. Neither of us really needed to explain. "I mean, the Great War was--"

"It didn't happen during the war," I interrupted, realizing what she was getting at. "This wasn't.. a person did this to me." She looked almost taken aback. Her eyes picked over every inch of it, every curve and flaw, and while I felt almost like I was being violated, I saw her slowly come to understanding and decided that she deserved this.

"So was Felix.." She gesticulated rapidly, frustrated, as though her waving hands would discover the concept she was grappling with. "Was he really like that or was he.. was that all an act? Was he really--"

"Talkative? Yes. You have no idea the lengths to which he could speak." This earned a small laugh from her. "But to be honest, I don't think he lied to you other than what was necessary. His personality here was genuine, as far as I can tell. His cynicism came mostly from frustration at the job having gone on so long; he was relatively positive and caring." I coughed, adding, "Jabs at my mental health aside." After seeing her face, I immediately regretted saying it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't kn-- it's none of my business." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, looking very nearly upset. "I don't mean to pry with questions about Felix. I'm sure it brings out some bad things. I just... we were close."

"So I'm told."

Kimball's eyes lit up. There was a long moment of silence. "...really?"

"Yeah, I mean, Isaac really--" I met Kimball's eyes, my mouth hanging open dumbly, and the look on her face was indescribable. Anger, confusion, disbelief. I'm sure I have never kicked myself harder for anything. I don't even know why it came out suddenly after remaining unspoken for years.

A long, long moment passed. She cleared her throat and collected herself. "Can I trust you to go out and do good?"

"I made a vow never to kill again, and I never beak a promise, General."

Kimball hesitated, then nodded, seemingly more to herself than to me, and stood up. "I'll see to it that your sword is returned and you're released where we found you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope we never see each other again."

I laughed once. "Likewise."

As she was walking away, she paused with her hand on the doorframe. She turned over her shoulder and worked her jaw as if in thought. She finally asked, "Which one are you?"

"Pardon?"

"When you were recovering from being tased. Uh. There was a brief period of time where you were floating in and out of consciousness." That gave me pause. "For complicated reasons, the doctor recommended that we have someone stay and talk to you so that you wouldn't get curious or antsy, and I was the only one who could do it. For.. also complicated reasons. You kept singing this song where you mentioned how 'one of us' would do something or the other, and when I asked you about it, you told me you'd written it. So, I just. Wanted to know which one of.. 'us' you are."

My jaw was hanging open in disbelief. I couldn't fathom the idea that I had told her that. That had been years ago, near the beginning of the Chorus job. It was my last song, as far as I could foresee. (I would never have admitted this at the time, but I couldn't touch it after Felix's death.) It was something I'd kept secret from everyone and scrapped after the first draft when Felix nearly discovered it. I _could_ still remember that rainy September - the one where Mason left - like it was yesterday. It was a secret and personal anthem lamenting the nature of my monstrosity.

And I just showed it to Vanessa Kimball.

"...I don't know."


	3. In Which Locus Has No Idea How To Take Care of Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus finds himself struggling with his trip to the Blues and Reds' hideout in an unexpected way. (AKA Locus and Grif At The Drive-Thru)

"I'm starving," was one of the first things Grif said to me after he calmed down. He said it exactly twelve times before I caved. One food run, I told him. Get everything you need and let's get a move on. He chose to direct me to a fast food place, which I thought was curious. I had expected a convenience store or someplace better suited to pick up enough food for the remainder of the trip, but I wasn't about to protest. It didn't matter to me.

Grif relayed his order to me and I repeated it to the machine as well as I could, occasionally double-checking to make sure I had it right. When the automated voice asked, "Will that be all?" in a cheerful monotone and I put my hands back on the controls, Grif was staring at me and frowning almost in disapproval. He had long since taken his helmet off.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to get something?" he said insistently, gesturing at the window as if I didn't know what he meant.

I furrowed my eyebrows, though it occurred to me he couldn't see that. "No."

"Dude, you have to eat," he said, turning his legs so as to face me better. "We have no idea what's ahead of us, you gotta fuel up."

I gripped the thrusters harder, emphasizing the action. "I'm fine, we need to hurry up. Besides, I have to focus on flying."

Grif folded his arms. "When was the last time you ate?"

I opened my mouth indignantly and could think of nothing to say. He leaned over the seat and pushed my chestplate back, putting his weight on the edge of the open door. I fought the urge to wrestle him off when I realized that he was just shouting about a large number three into the receiver and confirming that that would, in fact, be all. He leaned back in his seat and shrugged, a lopsided, somewhat apologetic smirk on his face. I sighed deeply, pulling forward.

"This isn't very healthy, you know," I grumbled, even as I went to the next window.

Grif scoffed. "Why do you care so much?"

I flexed my fingers. "I'm a space marine, Private Grif, and as such, I need to be in peak physical form at all times. Frankly, you should all care a little more."

"Yeah, maybe, but I _kiiiiinda_ feel like not eating at all definitely doesn't fall under self-care."

I blushed angrily.

Our food was dispensed and I grabbed the bags, handing them to Grif, who plopped them down in his lap and started digging through them. He held out a sandwich and a box of fries, which I took and carefully balanced between my thighs. He set down a cup of something next to my feet, making sure I knew it was there and wouldn't kick it accidentally. He took a bite of his own food, strapping himself back in as I began to take off. "You'd better eat that," he said around a mouthful of food, gesturing vaguely at me with his sandwich.

I inhaled and exhaled evenly. "I'm serious, man, if you don't take your helmet off, I'm going to do it myself," he said a little more insistently. My heart jumped into my throat. I was already somewhat vulnerable from his line of questioning earlier.

_"Can we please not talk about Felix?" I interrupted his babbling, allowing myself to close my eyes for just a moment._

_"Why? Do you have a lot of bad memories of him? Was he always that much of an asshole? Do any of us remind you of him? What makes you not want to talk about him?" I grit my teeth and thanked my experience with Felix for giving me eons of patience._

_"What, were you fucking?"_

_I froze and kept my gaze straight ahead. Grif was silent for a long moment. "Oh my god, you were," he said on a breath. "Oh my god, he really hurt you, didn't he?"_

_"Grif." I was snarling before I could contain myself. "Shut up."_

_"Was it more than that, or did he just--?"_

_"Grif, if you do not stop speaking about that man, I will not hesitate to eject you from this ship at this very moment." He looked over, stunned, but not hurt, and looked in the other direction, like a dog who'd just been yelled at._

"Locus, I swear to fuck."

He _did_ remind me of Felix, in a way.

"Alright, alright," I said, feeling like I was about to throw up. I swallowed down all fear and raised one hand to unclip the straps holding it to my neck. Air hissed as I undid the second set and pulled it off carefully, inhaling through my mouth. I turned to the left and kept my face tilted to the ground as much as possible, even as I recognized its futility.

I could practically hear Grif's confusion. "Hey, uh, you have something--" There wasn't going to be any hiding it from him. I turned to look at him, quickly, lips pursed, before facing away again. "Oh," was all he said, abrupt though it was. His jaw worked as though he wasn't sure what to do in this situation, not that I could blame him for not knowing.

I stared straight ahead and unwrapped the burger Grif had ordered for me, taking a small bite. It was warm and greasy and full of cheese and crunchy from some vegetable. I swallowed and tried not to think about how much fat this thing was soaked in.

"So, how--?"

"Don't," I refused to make eye contact as I took another bite. I heard the sound of him patting his legs restlessly. It was silent for a long time as we ate.

"Was that before or after--?"

"After."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I'm pretty sure I know."

"...before or after you got your armor?"

It actually wasn't quite the question I'd been expecting. "After," I repeated.

Another short pause. "Did it hurt?"

I scoffed, louder than I meant to. "Yeah."

"...was it on purpose?"

"What?"

"I mean, like, did you want it."

"No. _God_ , no."

Then, the last thing I expected.

"Are you okay?"

My mouth dried, and I looked over in surprise. I opened and closed my mouth a few times before shaking my head and looking back out into space, my usual stoic expression returning. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later, we were lying on the floor in the cargo hold, because Grif insisted that we get some rest before an actual confrontation. My sleep schedule was based on nothing at all, and Grif didn't seem to be doing much better, so despite my protests, we ended up laying fully armored on some canvas mats that I found in the back. There was silence for a few minutes and I figured he had nodded off when he suddenly spoke up.

"Locus?"

I opened my eyes, drowsy. "Mm?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really hot?"

I was wide awake in seconds, rolling over to look at him over my shoulder. "Excuse me?"

He was on one side, one hand against his own hip wantonly, the other propping up his face. "I mean, I'm sure someone has, given that you.. are. But I just feel like maybe you're feeling a bit underappreciated lately and you should hear that."

I stared at him disbelievingly. "Grif," I said, sputtering out the bitter half-laugh of self-hatred, "do you know who I am?"

"Yeah," he said, and started making his way towards me. "Felix was just awful, right?"

I began to stammer out more angry lies, but I was soon more preoccupied by Grif's arms sliding around my waist. "I-I--"

"I mean, you two were a thing, right?" he said, looking up into my eyes. "Like, a pretty serious thing? And he was a huge dick?"

I scoffed, attempting feebly to pull away, before giving up and saying, "Alright, yes, we were a _thing_ , and yes, he really hurt me."

"Are you okay?" he asked for the second time that day, and the sincerity startled me.

"I'm fine, I just--"

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss into the crook of my neck and I gasped, my fingers quickly finding his shoulders and wrapping around them. "I don't think I believe you," he said, continuing to kiss me. After a bit of this, he rolled over so that he was on top of me, pressing me down with his armor, kissing me so softly.

"And again I ask," I said again, a little raspy, "do you know who I am?"

He pulled back and stared into my soul. "Of course I do," he said.

And, well, you can probably figure out the rest. A story for another time, perhaps.


	4. Slithered Here From Eden (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend comes back.

I'm not sure how long it was that I lived alone in that abandoned ship, but it was a while. Nobody knew I was in there, not even the people I'd been helping on Chorus. I had a bunch of random code names that I scattered around to make it seem like I belonged, but in effect, I came from and went back to nowhere at the end of the day. It was just me against the galaxy, and it would be for a long time.

So when a knock came at the door, it was taken as a threat to my life.

The sound as so gentle, so frail, that I was scarcely sure I'd heard it. But nonetheless, I grabbed a shotgun leaning up against the wall and quietly checked to make sure it was loaded. It wasn't cocked, but whoever was outside didn't need to know that. I took a deep breath and opened the door, hiding the gun behind my leg just in case.

He had messy stubble, wild hair in need of a trim, even more gaunt cheekbones than usual, and tired, searching eyes, but there was no question of the man's identity. I narrowed my eyes and raised the barrel.

Felix immediately put his hands in the air and that's when I knew something was off. In all of my hallucinations, Felix was always cruel, always uncaring of the various ways in which I'd try to stop him. Always cocky and coy and in the exact same state he'd been in before his death.

Doyle's voice saying _Do you believe in ghosts?_ echoed in my ears and I watched as Felix swallowed hard. "You're supposed to be dead," I said, unwavering.

 _You motherfucker. We thought you were dead._ I quickly waved the thought away.

Felix smiled weakly, as though trying to determine what he could say in this situation. "I guess I was never very good at doing what I'm told." When I didn't react at all, he swallowed again and chuckled. "It.. it was the healing unit, I think."

My eyebrows raised at that. "The healing unit?"

"Yeah, it.. I honestly didn't know it could do that," he fumbled with the words, almost slurring a little bit, "but I was dead and then I.. wasn't. And we still had those trackers in our armor and I..."

He trailed off and I couldn't help but go a little slack at the memory. I hadn't even so much as glanced at that thing in months. He tracked me all the way to here? How long was he following me?

"...and in the time where I was sorta half-alive I realized you were right."

I lowered the barrel a little, taken aback, the "what?" that escaped me more instinct than question.

"We were terrible people. I'm sorry that I hurt you." I felt my resolve slipping, just a tad. "You have no reason to believe me about this, but.. I want to be better. I do. And I missed you."

We stood there as I searched his eyes for answers, debating whether or not to let this crazy, crazy thing happen -- _he's alive. He's standing here right in front of me alive. There's absolutely no fucking way_ \-- and suddenly he looked incredibly drowsy, almost high, and collapsed to the ground. I stared at his form, slack-jawed, before throwing down the shotgun and testing his pulse. Very much alive - just in terrible condition.

_Oh my god, he is actually alive._

I looked between his face, ashen, well-worn by this planet, and the door, standing agape with snow slowly brushing inside. I looked once, twice, and back again. "God dammit," I growled finally, and hauled him up by his shoulders and into the ship.


	5. Slithered Here From Eden (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start the slow crawl back to normal. Or not normal. Better. What should have been normal.

I watched as Isaac slowly opened his eyes, sitting up and hissing from the pain. He examined the bandages, took note of the blankets and the bed, looked over at the glass of water and bowl on the bedside table, and glanced up at me, disoriented and sticky, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows turned down just so, as if to ask me if I'd done this. Why I would do that. As if to say, "Do you know who I am?" _Do I know who he is?_

I cleared my throat and sat up straighter. "Um. You were in really rough condition, so I patched you up, but it seems like a lot of the damage is more long-term and you just need to heal." I nodded towards the bedside table. "There are a few pain medications in there. And water over there." He looked at the table again, expressionless. "I made the soup." I stood up and his gaze turned to me. I could tell he was trying to hold down on fear. "You can stay," I said, trying not to waver. "I'm going to lock the door at night, but the room is yours." He looked at me searchingly, as though he couldn't believe it. (I couldn't believe it either.) Before I could keep thinking about his eyes and their questions, I left and I locked the door behind me.

_What the fuck are you doing?? He's done nothing but hurt you for two decades! You should hate him! He's going to kill you!!_

_Oh my god. Is this all just more manipulation? He's just trying to get back inside my head. None of this is real. He's probably just fine and he was faking the injuries for sympathy. He's going to fucking kill me._

_I realized you were right. I realized you were right. I realized you were right. I realized you were right. I realized you were right. I realized you were right. I realized you were right._

I darted up the hallway and slammed the door to my room behind me. I didn't want to think. I didn't want to remember. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. How was I supposed to understand it myself? After all this time, and all the months alone, thinking I would never have a friend ever again, suddenly he came back, apologetic and dying but somehow alive. _I watched him die. I saw him dead._

I clambered into bed and slammed my face into the mattress, holding my pillow down over my head until I could drive out the screaming thoughts enough to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That's how it was for a while. We rarely spoke, and when we did, it was about things like dinner plans and broken parts. He eventually completely healed, and his motor skills returned with ease. After a couple of months like this we would sometimes work out together, but it felt like a formality more than anything else. He seemed to panic and hold his spine straighter, his expression more neutrally, every time I walked into the room.

The realization that he was afraid of me was something I had almost always known, but it frightened me how quickly it came to light when Santa said it to me and how quickly I was willing to accept it. That was all it took. What would have happened if Agent Washington had ever said that to me? If Mason ever had?

Regardless, I understood that his reasons for being afraid of me were somewhat different now, but it still stung in the same way. We were falling back into old patterns without knowing what to do about it.

He laughed at a joke I made and said, "Man, that's.. you're..." It hung in the air between us and he wouldn't look at me. _You're crazy._ "You're something else, Locs."

I refused to ask him if he could see the horrible bleeding shadow in the doorway until the seventh time he begged me to tell him what was wrong and when I finally relented, heart in my throat, he glanced worriedly in its direction and said gently, "There's nothing there. You're okay. Everything's okay."

"Oh, I need the garlic powder." I'd say, and he would reply, "I'll get it for you."

"No, it's fine, I can take care of it." "Here you go." "Oh, I'll help you look for it."

I wasn't used to this kindness from him at all. Most of our communal life before was spent with me biting back on sarcastic replies because I knew it wasn't worth it, him calling me names and starting fights just to win them, him constantly insulting me and putting me down and reminding me that we were all we needed.

Did it really take literally dying for him to stop treating me like shit?

Sometimes I wondered if it was really him, so kind and courteous, so _gentle,_ but every now and then he would make a raunchy joke or a stupid pun and it brought me back to reality. We still didn't call each other by our real names, but we were almost what I would venture to call friends when a number of strange things happened.

 

First, I was asleep one night when I heard a scream.

My panic reaction kicked in immediately and before I could stop myself, I had my sword in hand and was bolting down the hallway, in a loose raglan and flannel pants. I threw open Felix's door and scanned the room for any signs of danger, but I only found Felix sitting up in bed and breathing heavily. "What happened? Are you okay?" It was only in the moments where I calmed down that I realized how absurd I must look.

Felix looked up at me, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. "I-- it's fine, I just--" He swallowed hard. "I had a nightmare. It's fine." I relaxed somewhat, lowering the hilt but keeping my shoulders squared and legs apart. I couldn't fight the sense of fear and need to protect him even though I knew there was no threat, and I hated that. I sheathed the sword and set the hilt on his dresser. My instinct was to rush forward and comfort him - I didn't care for that either - but I felt like I wasn't allowed.

I settled for asking quietly, "Is there anything I can do?"

Felix exhaled shakily, almost a laugh, but his smile disappeared when I was still standing there. "I.. couldn't ask you to..."

"Felix, please," I said, surprising myself with this vulnerability. "I'm asking." Felix stammered a bit before I added, "Do you want me to stay in here with you?"

"L-Locus, I couldn't--"

"I am offering."

He seemed unable to protest. He looked at the floor, almost ashamed, and mumbled through his cheeks something like, "yeah, sure, I guess." I sat down in the chair across from him and he stared awkwardly anywhere but my face, laying back down somewhat. "What should I do?"

"Just go to sleep."

His eyes widened. "What, you're just gonna-- sit here?"

"Yes. I'll watch you and make sure nothing bad happens. Okay?"

He took a deep breath before finally relaxing his muscles. "..okay."

By the time he woke up, I was long since asleep, and he woke me up. I hadn't realized I was asleep in the chair and I bolted upright, apologizing profusely, asking him if anything had happened, but he laughed and said nothing had, and thanked me.

 

Second, I stumbled out of my room late one night needing something to eat, and I saw Felix reaching up to the cabinet. "Felix," I said loudly. reaching for the nearest weapon, which happened to be a pan.

He fumbled the glass he was holding, but ultimately caught it, and turned around in fear. "I--I n-needed a drink of water, I just--" He was shaking and he gripped the glass like a lifeline as he looked at me up and down. "You, you left the door unlocked, and I just-- I didn't..." He stammered and looked almost close to tears.

I set down the pan, finding the explanation acceptable but not sure how to apologize, so I simply turned around and went back to my room.

 

Third, I was reading a book alone in my room when I felt my pants get tighter out of nowhere at all, hormones flooding my brain and driving all other thoughts out, eliciting a soft exhale. "What the--"

_Tucker._ I groaned and set the book down, leaning my head back. Of course. That was the only logical explanation. Felix would figure that out soon. It couldn't last very long, not much longer than an hour, and I believed myself capable of simply toughing it out.

I was wrong.

After about fifteen minutes before I could convince myself otherwise, I stood up and walked down the hall to Felix's room, opening the door and my mouth for an explanation, but none came out.

He glanced at me, in a similar state of frustration, and we were both silent as I tried to justify what I was thinking, but even I didn't know. Several seconds went by before I closed the door, and he didn't protest.

 

Fourth, we were sitting on the couch in the living room once and he was talking, about what I don't remember, just rambling on as he is wont to do, and slowly it started devolving into bitter jokes at his own expense and then to very raw and bleak comments about his own outlook, about our future and his as well, and I couldn't bear to see him like that, and I leaned forward and I closed my eyes and I put one hand on his shoulder and I kissed him.

His shoulders slumped, leaning forward into me, tears streaming down his face, and I just pressed my lips into his softly, just once, in a way that neither one of us had done in years, and when we finally pulled apart I said, "I forgive you."

His eyes darted back and forth between mine, waiting for the justification, the 'just kidding,' the real answer to all of this, and that was all there was. He shook his head, just a little, and cried some more, and I just rested my chin on top of his head, wrapping my arms around him, and said it again.

"B-but I don't, don't deserve--"

"Felix."

He couldn't move to look at me so he just sobbed quietly into my chest. "Partners," I said absentmindedly, because it was the only thing I could think to say.

"Partners," he wheezed back at me, grabbing at my shirt.

_So much for prayers and prisoners._


	6. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure how to tie Wash getting shot into the story I want to tell so let's pretend it didn't happen until I figure that part out

An overall pleasant conversation between the Reds and Blues slowly drew to silence as A'rynasea dropped onto Iris.

"Who the hell is that," Wash said quietly, already tense.

Grif stood up. "Oh, thank God, that's just Locus's ship." He started running out onto the lawn and waving his arms at me. I smiled to myself as we landed and the engine shut off.

"Let me handle this," I whispered to Felix, both of our hearts pounding. "I'll signal for you to come out." He nodded.

I stepped out of the ship and my eyes bounced between the group, some with helmets off, some not, in varying states of battle readiness. "Locus!" Grif cried out, bounding up to me. "What's up, man? What are you doing here?"

Agent Washington - wearing no helmet and seeming like he seriously regretted it - was looking at Grif as if to ask how he could possibly be this comfortable with me. "I haven't heard from you all in a while," I said, trying to choose my words carefully. "I didn't want to be a stranger."

"Bring any presents from Chorus?" Tucker, also with no helmet, shouted jokingly, before his expression turned to something of fear and rage. The rest of the faces did the same and I whipped around to see Felix peering out from behind the ship. My heart leapt into my throat and I grabbed his arm, hauling him out into the open.

"I told you to wait for me," I hissed, and whatever excuse he was about to make dried up in the presence of nine guns aimed our way. "Not exactly," I said weakly, at last.

"Locus," Grif said, the most serious I'd ever heard him, "if that's not someone else in his armor, or unless you brought him here so we could kill him again, there had better be a _really_ fucking good explanation for this."

My throat dried up, all of my confidence withering suddenly. "There is," I said anyway.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"He's... good now."

"...yes. In not so many words, that. Yes."

"Do you honestly expect us to fucking believe that?" Simmons asked, his voice ablaze with fury.

"I... no," I said, folding my hands together. "I don't know what I expect you to believe. I have only my word."

Felix was tied to a chair in the other room, just within sight but just out of earshot. We had both allowed it to happen, but I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of trying to justify myself to the Reds and Blues alone.

"Okay, for you, we could maybe make this exception," Wash said, silencing Carolina when she opened her mouth to speak, "but we can't just-- let Felix in our close personal space on your word alone. What are we going to do if he does something?"

"If anything should happen, you are to kill the two of us without hesitation and without asking questions." The faces without helmets looked almost afraid; taken aback, certainly, but it wasn't every day that a man put his life on the line in front of countless others. I knew they were still afraid of me. "I am nothing if not a man of my word."

There was a brief silence. "Locus, if I could speak to you alone?" Carolina said, glaring daggers even though neither of us could see the others' eyes.

The others began to file out and she closed all of the surrounding doors, including the one leading to the room Felix was in. I blinked and shook the surprise away quickly. "So let me get this straight," she said, visor in her hand. "You want us to house the two of you because Chorus is too dangerous, and you want to... just live with us?"

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but luckily, she continued. "You have some nerve asking us to harbor fugitives while--"

"Felix is legally dead," I interrupted, not ungently, "and the UNSC is looking for me everywhere but here. We are no threat."

She stammered and sighed angrily. "So no one else knows he's alive?"

"I don't know what he was doing exactly before he came back to me," I said, "but to the people of Chorus, and the IPD, Felix, as it were, is dead. The only people who know of his identity and status are in this building."

"And one other thing," she said, seeming not to have heard me, "how exactly is he even alive?"

"As I understand it, he was resuscitated by the healing unit provided by Charon."

That gave her pause. "It.. was never supposed to..." She shook her head. "This is all just too much."

I stood up and took off my helmet. She looked over at the hiss of air, absorbing my features, frozen in place. "Agent Carolina," I said heavily, putting my hands on the table. "I would not be coming to you with this if I did not trust you wholeheartedly. I have no reason to expect the same in return, but I have proven myself to be trustworthy once before. Your reasons for disliking and even not trusting Felix are valid, and there is nothing I can do but beg you to believe me. We want to move on, even if we do not deserve it."

She was motionless for the whole spiel before finally relaxing. "I must be out of my mind," she said to herself, and then to me, "Fine. I'll give you a chance to prove yourselves, but if I feel even for a second that something fishy is going on, I'll be taking you up on that promise."

"But of course."

She began walking towards the adjacent door, her back to me. "I'll send for the arrangements for two extra rooms--"

"That won't be necessary."

I bit my lip a second too late and heard the padding of her glove hit the doorknob and nothing turned. "Oh. I. Um. Alright."

I was wincing and she clearly was too as she forced herself to work out, "Will you.. be... sharing...? A room..?"

"Yes," I said, as slowly and quietly as I thought I could with her still hearing it. "There's a, um.. there's a good reason that I'm not the talker."

She laughed haltingly and left the room quickly. I grabbed my helmet and left the room that was the building's exit. _We can sleep in A'rynasea for the time being. This is going to work out. Yeah. God damn._

 

As I wandered out, Grif was leaning against the wall outside, glaring at me. Crickets were chirping gently and the setting sun would be replaced by no moonlight, no pale silver glow to illuminate those angry eyebrows, that set jaw.

"What?" I asked, briefly considering putting my helmet back on.

"Are you kidding me?" he said, unfolding his arms and throwing them out. "He was gone for months, dude. And he was fucking awful. What changed?"

I frowned and turned my whole body to face him. "If you must know, he changed, actually. And it's none of your business."

"None of my--" he sputtered and balled up his fists. "Locus, I'm your friend! I can't see you go back to him like this! After you told me about everything he did to you?!"

I couldn't help the softness that came to me in that moment, argument be damned. "...I'm your friend?"

He looked at me sadly. "Well, yeah, I... I mean, what did you think?"

"I don't know, I, you just kind of decided to like me, and, and then we had sex, and I was never really--?"

"Locus," he interrupted, grabbing my hand. "We're friends. And I'm worried about you."

"I swear to God he's changed. I'll swear on anything you want."

Grif's eyes darted for a moment to A'rynasea, then back to me. "You know I'll kill him."

"I know. You won't have to."

"...okay. I trust you."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \---

Locus jolted awake as the SAW dropped into his lap, grunting. "Wake up," came the order through gritted teeth. "I told you we'd make it."

"Felix," he groaned, every breath labored, "it's over."

He was ignored. "Run your camo and stick to the shadows. I'll draw them out." The sound of the Key activating vaguely registered in his brain.

"The Tartarus is destroyed. Our numbers are falling. The mission--"

"Fuck the mission!" Felix interrupted, whipping over his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, for _once_ in your life would you _forget_ about _following god damned orders?!"_ He punctuated each word with a stomp. Locus was too tired to summon his ire. "I'm not doing this for Hargrove," he said, as thought that made his actions better. "I'm doing this for me." He turned around and began walking away.

Locus narrowed his eyes. "Speak to me like that again."

Felix froze, as if for a moment disbelieving, before saying, "Excuse me?" His voice was soaked through with the quiet rage that was the mark of his most terrible anger, but Locus couldn't seem to find room for fear under his knowledge that the feeling was mutual.

Slowly, laboriously, he hauled himself to his feet and brought himself closer to his partner. "For the past thirty years, you have used me like a dog and led me on with a promise of love that meant nothing. You have no respect for me and you don't care that I've always known this is wrong. You're terrified of me, and we both know it, so speak to me that way again. I _dare_ you."

He was hunched back, leaning away, arms ready to hit or protect or do anything at all, and he whispered quietly, "Are you going to kill me?"

No, no. He wouldn't say that.

Okay, umm...

 

"W-wait!!"

He had only seconds to react. His instinct kicked in and he dashed forward, penetrating the light shield just as it broke apart and kicking the grenade away mere fractions of a second before it blew. The impact knocked them both forward and Locus grasped for Felix's hand, keeping an iron grip on his forearm as he staggered over the edge.

He sighed shakily. "Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me, you maniac. You should've told me you had a plan, now pull me up and let's kill these guys."

Locus narrowed his eyes. "Speak to me like that again and I'll let go."

"What?"

"What..?" Carolina -- was Carolina there? I guess she wasn't -- Simmons said under his breath.

Locus didn't change his grip whatsoever, and the way that he was hunched over on his hands and knees probably seemed less than intimidating to the Reds and Blues, but all Felix could see was Locus's face on a platform that was only a foot away, but seemed dizzyingly far.

"C'mon, Locus," Felix said, laughing nervously. "This is not the time, they're gonna kill us..."

Locus looked over his shoulder and saw Tucker slowly pulling out another grenade. He turned back to Felix and looked at the gaping chasm below them, fading away into fog. "Do you trust me?"

"What? No, of course n--"

"Too bad. Don't look down."

In one fell swoop, Locus scooped Felix up and threw them together off the side of the cliff, eliciting several cries from the Reds and Blues and a long, terrified scream from Felix. But Locus knew this would end well.

 

...that would never work.

Maybe further back?

"I want to talk about Isaac."

Yeah, we could play _that_ 'what if' game all afternoon, buddy.

"Is this supposed to be some sort of apology?"

No...

"What did you see?"

_There_ it is.

 

"Calm down, asshole, you're fine," Felix spat, still aiming down at Locus in defense. "It was an illusion. You know, a trick?"

A pause. "Felix, I don't think we should stay here."

He quickly lowered his gun at that, but took a long time to respond. "What?" he said, laughing.

"We have more than enough technology to satisfy Hargrove. It isn't worth getting all tangled up in all the rest of this and having the Reds and Blues on our backs the whole rest of this time." He slung his gun across his back as he spoke, already imagining the warm sands of some beach or the warm confines of some bed. "This isn't our problem."

Felix sputtered in disbelief, throwing his arms out. "B-but Hargrove wants the whole planet--"

"And he'll find someone else to take it for him," Locus interrupted calmly, eyeballing the gateway. "This, to me, is the final straw. This is not our dirty work. We can take our money and go."

"He'll kill us," Felix said quietly. All the pirates watched, silently, breath bated.

Locus approached Felix and looked down at his helmet, hiding the face of which he knew every contour and groove, every rise and fall, and something that had been driving them apart for a very long time suddenly evaporated. "He'll have to find us first."

Okay, that's a bit too romantic.

"Hey, Locus!" The thoughts quickly dissipated. "You alright?"

I blinked up at Grif. "Uh, yeah. Just thinking."


	8. Don't Get It Twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people have some realizations.

One day, I was in the kitchen pouring water into a kettle when Wash walked in singing an awfully familiar song. I hadn't heard it in quite some time, and I was very surprised that it was happening now.

Suddenly I was back in the training room on Chorus, on a day when Agent Washington walked in and had no idea who I was, seeing as I had no armor on. I simply nodded at him as he entered and he set his helmet next to his belongings to play music from its radio. He apologized for it a few times before I politely informed him that I wouldn't mind at all if he turned it up. We stayed in there together for a good hour, more than once spotting for one another and listening to music. It was pretty nice, though he certainly had no idea who I was.

This happened a few more times before I left the Federal Army, and while I'm not sure if he ever figured out that was me, it never came up afterwards.

Either way, as he softly hummed a song that I could very clearly remember writing, orchestrating, and recording, I couldn't help but find it funny. So of course I began to sing along.

"Oh, holy shit," he said with a quiet reverence, turning to me. "You know them?"

I smiled to myself. "Something like that."

That turned out to be a mistake, as Wash began looking me up and down and his hand flew to his mouth. I squared my jaw and exhaled carefully. What was it about these people that had completely destroyed my filter? "Hang on," he said raggedly, and ran off. I ran a hand through my hair and banged my head against the fridge. This was so stupid.

When he returned, he was holding a large print of the album cover for _Avarice,_ with four signatures on it in sparkly silver permanent marker, including one I recognized as my own. He pointed at me in the picture. "I got this signed by you!" he exclaimed, his features a mix of shocked, delighted, and confused. "I was there! A lot! I saw you sing live and I bought this and you signed it and-- that was _you?"_

I worked my jaw in response and Wash rolled the print back up, tucking it under his arm. "That's..." He trailed off and his smile faded away. "Oh my god, Lucas Iscariot tried to kill me."

"Why do you still have that?" I asked before I could think any more about the last thing he said, hoping that just that was enough to embarrass him into leaving, and apparently it was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

About a week later, I was drinking tea at the table next to Tucker and Washington while they bickered like an old married couple. Grif had assured me that this happened all the time, so I just smiled away and waited for the conversation to return to a more comfortable topic.

"Don't be such a hardass," Tucker said, across from me and taking a drink of his water.

Wash was leaned against the table to either side of one of us. "Then don't be such a piece of shit."

"Wash."

" _Lavernius._ "

My smile disappeared. "Your name is Lavernius?"

Tucker snapped out of their conversation and glanced sidelong at me. "Uh... yeah," he said uncertainly. "Why?"

I blinked at him a few times over my mug. "Is your dad's name Curtis?"

"Yes," he replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Why."

Wash glanced between us a few times. We were both glaring wide-eyed at one another, drinking apparatuses frozen in midair. "No way," he said at last, breathless, almost laughing, "no fucking way."

A realization slowly dawned on Tucker. "Holy shit, you're--" He burst out laughing, clapping one hand against his forehead. "Oh my god! I've seen those pictures! You're-- oh my _god."_

I was blushing furiously and Wash started laughing too. "Did you only realize it was me just now??" Tucker exclaimed, leaning forward onto his elbows and heaving breath.

"I don't know!" I yelled back, probably more defensively than I should have. "I just-- I assumed you were the only one of the Reds and Blues who went by their first name!" That sent the two of them into a fresh wave of giggles, and I had the vague memory of skimming dossiers with the troopers' information.

"I loved Twisted Scripture when I was, like, sixteen," Wash said to Tucker. "Did you-- was that really..?"

Tucker put on his best shit-eating grin. "Yeah, that's.. that was my dad. I was probably only five or six when they broke up though." He turned back to me. "What was up with that? I never found out."

I looked away. "That's... a long story." We were all silent for a second. "But this never leaves this room."

"Oh, my god," Wash cut me off, bolting out of the room and shouting down the hallway. "Felix! Felix! Oh my god! You're Isaac!!"

_"No no no, wait--"_

We ran together into our room and Wash stood panting in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. "I just realized you're Isaac!" he said again, clutching the doorframe.

He froze up and looked from Wash to me, helplessly standing behind him, and turned back. "Uh, I... uh.."

"From the Twisted Scripture lore?" he added cheerfully, oblivious. "You were in the music video for Welcome to the Show!"

We both sighed. Isaac laughed a bit, awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, that was me. Guess that was just a.. really poorly-kept secret, huh."

"Damn," Wash said, more to himself than us, putting his hands on his hips. "Never meet your heroes. Apparently they try to kill you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I caught up with Tucker a few minutes later, grabbing him by the wrist. He panicked for a second before calming down when I let go, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "So, uh," I tried to work my way around what I wanted to say. "I was friends with your dad for a really long time. And we were obviously sort of, immortalized by this whole band thing."

He nodded once. "I have no idea why this matters but continue."

"So you--" I bit my lip. "Do you.. know... my name?"

"Oh. Uh."

He looked at the floor and got quiet for a few seconds. When he looked back up, neither of us could break the gaze. "Please don't tell anyone," I said quietly.

"Yeah, I.. of course," he said, shifting his weight, but still tense. "Can I just. Ask something first?"

It was my turn to let my shoulders go rigid. "Certainly."

"Why would you choose a code name that's not a real name at all, but is really close to your actual name?"

It took me nearly five seconds to process the question and after I finally did, I burst out laughing. "Oh my god," I wheezed as I walked away, patting him on the shoulder. "You have no idea what a relief that is."


	9. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is confronted with some uncomfortable truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long! I won't have anything more soon because I'm going to RTX, but I went back and edited WHB because there were a lot of parts I really didn't like. Enjoy this and hopefully will have more content soon (plus a whole new AU story I'm working on)

The pirate - God, I still don't remember his name - glanced up at me through the haze, panting. "U-um," he started, and I grunted irritably, almost finished reapplying my armor. "If you and Felix hate each other, then.. why are you really here? If it's not to compete with him then do you just, care about the war?"

I chortled mirthlessly. "That's a laugh. No, it's all money, you see. Makes the world go 'round." I shifted so that we were eye to eye. "Every one of us is a tool, and we're all using each other, and nothing else matters except for the money."

I stood up and his eyed followed me warily, body limp. "I'm a means to an end, see? I'm a gun." I turned around and set my hand on the doorframe. "And you're just the lever for my revenge."

Nothing else mattered in that moment. I was so drunk. I was so angry Isaac. I couldn't find the energy to care about this stupid pirate who I didn't even know the name of.

Poor bastard.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was sitting in the kitchen and Wash came careening in with Tucker in tow. The former looked frazzled and the latter bore a shit-eating grin, and Wash held up his arm to demonstrate him to me. "Can you watch him for a second," he said breathlessly. "I have to go find.. the other one."

I looked Tucker up and down and noticed the scorch marks tracking across his shirt and arms. Things had been weird between him and Felix for a while, but since he had forgiven him, they started getting along alarmingly well. Which almost always spelled disaster for the rest of us. I'll never forget the first time I realized how poorly things were going when Wash came sprinting in asking me if I had seen Felix, and I remembered I had seen him last with Tucker mere milliseconds before we heard the explosion.

They were like fire and gasoline, but only for everyone else. They apparently got along swimmingly and had a great time ruining our lives together.

"Uh, sure," I said uncertainly.

Tucker frowned at me. "Man, you're no fun."

Wash fumbled out a quick thank you and bolted away again, leaving Tucker to flop down at the table across from me and pout like a toddler. I shifted in my seat. I figured it was probably high one of us said something. "Look, uh," I mumbled, clearing my throat. "I don't know if you feel weird around me because of what happened, but I want you to know that I'm not-- upset and I don't blame you for anything."

His eyes went wide and he pressed himself back into the chair, as though afraid of what I would do next. "Oh fuck, you-- _fuck,_ you know about that?"

"He was gone from comms for about three hours," I said, laughing. "How could I not notice?"

He bit his lip and put his hands in his lap. "Look, I--" He stammered for a moment. "I'm really sorry, I didn't-- I didn't know or I would have--" At this point, it had become fairly common knowledge that Felix and I were together, individual feelings about it aside.

"It's fine," I said, putting up my hand to stop him. "Any normal person would have said something right at the beginning." I leaned on my hand, staring forlornly into the middle distance. "I wish I knew what was going through his head. I'd be kidding myself if I said I wasn't extremely jealous at the time, but, you know. I know it didn't mean anything." I glanced up at him, drawn from my stupor. _Why am I being so open??_ "No offense."

He gave a small, pained smile. "It's okay, I--I know it didn't. I don't really-- that is-- you know. I don't want anything else with him." His grimace deepened with every word he spoke. We were both just rambling ourselves into deeper and deeper holes, and we knew it. "Are you still upset with him? 'Cause it seems like you're still together."

"We are, and, um," I laughed again, resting my elbows on the table. "I never said that."

"So you.. aren't mad?"

My smile withered. "I never said that either."

"Man, you _are_ cryptic," he muttered to himself, drawing his leg up into the chair. He leaned his face on his knee and wrapped one arm around it. "So what did you do?"

My mouth opened and closed a few times and I couldn't break eye contact with Tucker as his eyes went wide and his grin returned, patting his knee with both hand excitedly. "No way. No fucking way."

"I--" I blushed a little and unsuccessfully tried to hide it. "I didn't say anything."

"So you _didn't_ have wild revenge sex?"

I bolted up from the table and began storming towards the door, but Tucker in my way in seconds. "Locus!" he exclaimed, gesturing with his arms like this was some kind of grand opportunity. "Oh my _god!"_

I glared at him pointedly, blushing a little. "Is this some kind of joke to you?"

"No, I just--" He laughed breathily. "You have to understand. For like, a few months in my head you were just, a machine, y'know? You were a ruthless killer and that was that, the idea of you having _revenge sex_ is just--"

"Shut up."

"--it's just that you're terrifying, I can't imagine you getting blackout drunk and--"

"Shut. Up."

"What? It's not an insult, I'm just--"

I had balled up my fists and I towered over him. He finally looked up at me, eyes bugging, words crumbling, clutching the doorframe for protection. "Captain Tucker, I swear upon all that is holy, if you do not shut your mouth this instant, I will put a bullet in every one of your limbs and leave you to bleed to death."

He stared up at me, terrified, and began to smile against all odds. "Is this really what it's been like dealing with Felix all these years?"

My eyebrows raised and I opened my mouth slightly, stunned. I had barely even realized I said it. I stammered, suddenly very aware of where my hands were. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"I-it's okay," he said, holding his hands up defensively. "I shouldn't have, uh, that's.. I'm sorry." He shoved his hands in his back pockets, swallowing. "You're just a person and this was obviously really hard for you and, um. I'm really sorry." I couldn't think of anything else to say before he walked backwards carefully, steps tentative. "I'm just, I'm just gonna go."

He turned around and left and I heard stomping from behind me.

 

"Please, babe, can we talk about this?" Grif's voice carried through the hall, distraught.

Before I could process any of this, Grif and Simmons entered the kitchen, looking terrified and furious respectively. "So how long did you intend to stay here without letting me know what happened?"

"Uh," I looked between the two of them, Grif's face apologetic and frightened, and by the time I got past the fact that Simmons was angry enough not to be afraid of me, I still didn't have a response. "You're.. together."

"Yeah, no fucking shit!" Simmons yelled over Grif's half-hearted attempt at speech.

I looked pointedly at Grif. "You didn't tell me you were with Simmons."

He opened his mouth to speak and the only thing that came out was a tiny, broken noise. "He didn't?" Simmons exclaimed with mock surprise. "How interesting! Apparently I'm the only one who didn't assume your staying behind meant our relationship was over."

I took a step towards him. "Cap-- Simmons, I didn't know--"

"Save it," he said, holding up one hand, still glaring at - apparently his boyfriend? - who bit his lip. "You just didn't say anything? Didn't think to? It didn't matter?"

"I am so sorry, I had no idea--"

Simmons finally looked at me, his gaze scathing enough to make plants wilt. "I'm sorry, was it not clear that this isn't about you?"

"Then why do we have to do this here," Grif said quietly, looking like he immediately regretted it.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Simmons threw up his hands. "You know what? That's fine. You're right. We're done."

Grif gasped and turned to follow Simmons as he began stomping out of the room. I glanced between them as Simmons slammed the door and Grif trembled. He sniffled and his shoulders shook and before I could stop myself, I darted after Simmons.

"Go away," he snapped, steadily moving through the base, fists balled and tone acid. "I don't want to talk to you."

"It's just me, actually."

He only paused for a moment. "I don't want to talk to you either."

"Would you just hear me out for a moment?"

He turned around and folded his arms, lips pursed. It wasn't exactly a gilded invitation, but this was probably about the best I would get. "Look, I know this isn't about me, but I had the same thing happen to me and I can tell you you're making the wrong decision."

"Felix cheated on you?" He rolled his eyes. "What a fucking surprise. How long did it take, two weeks?"

"It was on Chorus. With Tucker." I said this flatly, hoping that my cold glare would snap him out of his anger.

It seemed to do the trick. His eyes went wide and his arms drooped a little. "O-oh."

"And yeah, I was super pissed. I did things I'm not proud of. But I knew it didn't mean anything." Simmons opened his mouth and I pushed on anyway, "And that's not an excuse! Not for anyone's behavior. And neither is this, but he wasn't in his right mind because he hadn't slept in so long and wasn't eating enough, and..." I sighed. "It's not like he loves me. I know he loves you, and that he's really sorry."

"You didn't even know we were dating before just now," Simmons grumbled.

"Well, that's true." I put my hand on his shoulder and he finally looked into my eyes. "But apparently he's decided we're friends, and so I've decided I know him well enough to say that I know he wants to make it up to you." I tried to smile a little bit. "I've already destroyed so many things. Please don't let your relationship be one of them."

He bit his lip and finally sighed after a long moment, marching back into the kitchen behind me. I could hear through the open door some happy exclaiming, the sound of Grif crying, the two of their voices muffled suddenly. I smiled to myself.


	10. Uppers, Downers, and Candy Corn

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Things were still a little weird with Isaac before we decided to seek out the Reds and Blues. There was, of course, all that business with the Blues and Reds. I was rather alarmed by all that, and I prefer not to discuss it if possible; but then again, you already know what I was up to during that part.

Wash got shot, and I was the only one who could get him to safety, so I did. It was the least I could do.

And _yeah,_ in hindsight, maybe going to General Doyle General Hospital was a stupid idea. But I knew Dr. Grey was there, and she was the only person I had even a glimmer of hope that she wouldn't turn me in if I showed up.

She looked absolutely incredulous, and almost a little afraid, which was a new one on me, but I suppose were an odd pair ourselves, me out of breath and looking incredibly worse for wear, covered in Wash's blood as he was slung over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and leaking like a punctured soda can. After only a moment's hesitation, she called for some other folks and they wheeled him out of the room as I hid invisibly in the corner.

She assured me that they would do everything they could, but there was no guarantee of survival, and no telling what would happen if he lived, and my gut twisted. If I had gotten in the ship just a moment faster. Turned around half a second earlier. None of this might have happened.

"These things happen," she said, after noticing that I looked like I was waiting for the ground to swallow me up. She didn't say anything more, but I was already asking so much of her by bringing Wash here, and I wasn't about to ask for an ounce of her sympathy after she found out that I was responsible for the deaths of all her friends. It was almost worse that she offered anything at all.

"I know," I replied, because I did, but that didn't make it feel any easier.

There was a silence for a time. "I can bring news of his health back to you as soon as I know. But it might not be for a while."

"Right," I blurted out, actualizing how long I'd been sitting here. "Of course. I'm sorry, Doctor."

"Unless there was something else you needed?" she said daintily, and it took me a second to process that she was responding to the look on my face ~~I _cannot_ handle her coming onto me again, I don't even know why she would do that after knowing who I really am but I'm not doing this, I _'_ m  _not_~~ and I got my bearings.

"Um, yeah, actually," I said sheepishly. "Is there any way you could prescribe me some.. antipsychotics?"

She blinked once or twice. "It's, um.. I've had schizophrenia all my life and never really... done anything about it. And I think it would benefit me."

"Well, I," she scrambled for composure, clearly not having expected me to throw myself upon her mercy twice in one day, "without blood tests, which we don't have time for, there's not a whole lot I can do except give you a, a generic dose--"

"Anything's better than nothing," I interrupted.

She swallowed, sighed, and said, "Alright, okay." She crossed to her prescription pad and began to scribble something down. "But don't see this as a personal favor."

"Of course." I fidgeted with my helmet. "So, um.. how are you going to get in touch with me about Agent Washington?"

She smirked, just a little bit, to herself. "Oh, don't worry, I know exactly where you'll be."

I probably should have seen this coming.

 

I suppose it's rather arrogant of me to say that I would have won this fight had they not gotten the jump on me, but I have relative confidence in my abilities. I was less scared for myself and more scared for what I'd leave behind if I had to; Isaac, alone in the ship with dwindling resources, the Reds and Blues, semi-dependent on my assistance, would all have no idea where I'd been. Of course this would be under wraps. I had no reason to believe they could coerce it out of their connections on Chorus even if they tried.

Not that it mattered.

 

It was hopeless. Maximum security. Twenty-four hour surveillance. Without camouflage technology, I was nothing. If they wanted to accuse me of any crimes, it'd be irrefutable, but I had no idea what they were doing because no one had spoken to me in days. It wasn't until the third morning that I heard footsteps undeniably approaching me and the doors opened and shut.

"I thought I made it clear that I never wanted to--"

"Kimball!" I exclaimed. I couldn't help it. "Is Wash okay? Tell me he's alive."

Her face softened and she faltered, confused. "I.. I don't..?"

"I brought him back to the hospital and Dr. Grey turned me in. I just need to know if he's okay. Please. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him." I surprised myself with how emotional I got, but I'd had several days in complete silence to just think and it was eating slowly away at my soul.

Her eyes scanned me up and down a few times and she finally said, "He's okay."

The string that had been constricting my chest snapped and I sighed, ducking my head. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that." That hadn't been enough to clear all of the ice from my veins. "What about the Reds and Blues? Have you heard from them?"

"What do you--"

"They were in danger, I didn't want to abandon them but I was the only one who could get Wash to safety, I feel so bad that I couldn't--"

"Okay, stop," she cut me off, and I shut my mouth. "You were with them?" I nodded, somewhat frantically. "And you.. were helping them?"

"It's a really long story," I said simply.

She narrowed her eyes. "Try me."

So I told her everything.

 

I was already panicking, and I don't remember exactly what happened after she left, but I was asleep when she came back that night.

I rolled over to see her standing in the open door, backlit and wheeling something huge into the cell. Groggily, I groaned. "What are you--"

"Shh!" she hissed, and that's when I realized it was her. "I've caused a distraction, but you don't have long. Can you be out of here in five minutes?"

"Yeah, but not without my--" My eyes settled upon the object she'd brought. "...armor."

She gestured wildly. "Then you'd better hurry."

I stood from the bed and zipped up the body suit, frantically applying pieces of armor while Kimball helped wherever she could. "Why are you doing this?" I asked her at last.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lip. "It's just a hunch. I better be right about you."

I nodded once, pulled my helmet on, and was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hello, this is Dr. Emily Grey, how can I help you?"

"Doctor."

She clicked her tongue primly. "I can't say I'm surprised to hear your voice."

"Then what was the point of all that?"

"Consider it a lesson."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Message received. Are you giving me the antipsychotics or not?"

There was a moment's silence. "You'll forgive me for saying this, but it's pretty stupid to trust me, dont'cha think?"

"Yeah, well, I don't have a lot of options here."

There was the sound of sighing and a pen scribbling furiously. "Where are you?" she said at last.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Doctor."

"Well, on the subject of stupid questions, how'd you manage to escape without anyone finding out, mister pacifist?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was so typical of her and I didn't have time for it. "Y'know, it's not as though this is the first time Miss Kimball and I have run into each other."

She was quiet long enough for me to process that that was the wrong thing to say. "I didn't know that," she said softly at last.

"And you still don't," I replied coolly, feigning nonchalance. "We never had this conversation."

 

"You expect me to go along with that why?"

"Because if Kimball knows you know I escaped, then you become a matter of global security."

She was silent.

"Would you like to set up a drop spot for the pills?"

"I'd love to."


End file.
